Dethroned
by Ilios
Summary: When a fifteen year old's abduction hits home for one detective, department lines blur. Now, it's a race against time with the SVU fighting to find her, before disastrous results occur. SVUCI crossover, slight BensonGoren.
1. Prologue

Carmen Rodriguez never believed the warnings of her family that New York City was not safe. She constantly ignored the pleas of her son and daughter-in-law, begging her to come live in New Jersey with them and their children. Carmen completely disregarded the stories her friends told of robbery and murder going on in New York City when they tried to sway her opinions in favor of living in a home in suburban Pennsylvania like them. Everyone in her life was persistent in telling her, Carmen, move away. Living by yourself in an apartment in New York City with no one to watch over you is no good. Come home to us.

But Carmen was a stubborn woman. She'd spent nearly her entire life in New York City. She'd raised two children in a much smaller apartment, which had been located in a much worse part of town. She was a survivor. She was strong. She could handle New York City, thank you very much.

It also didn't hurt that she had one of New York's finest (in her opinion, one of New York's very best) living in the apartment across the hall. In fact, the Detective was arguably one of the reasons she stayed in her apartment. Not the detective himself, mind you (though no one could argue he wasn't an attractive man, she had never quite recovered from the death of her husband seven years ago, may John rest in peace.). No, it was his niece, who had come to spend every summer with him since she was five. Carmen loved Sophia as if she were her own, and enjoyed watching her while her Uncle was on the job, workaholic he was. Granted, little Sophie was now fifteen and a young woman, but Carmen loved her too much to leave and so she stayed.

In many ways, fate is funny and works oddly. Carmen always believed in this. The night before Sophie came, Carmen had another fight with her son. She insisted, yet again, that she was perfectly safe where she was, and yet again, Andrew would not listen. She went to bed mad, as she always did after such fights, and in her anger, forgot to set her alarm clock.

If Carmen had set her alarm clock, she might have been at the market buying her paper for the day. She might have been talking to the man who lived in the apartment below, having tea, or walking in the park. She would not have been in her apartment, she would not looked out the window at that very moment. .

But as it was, she did not set the alarm and so she was there when it happened.

Even then, if she had not cared for Sophia so very much, if she had not rushed downstairs to see why Sofia stood so very still on the pavement instead of bounding up the stairs (two at a time) as she always did, Carmen might have been saved. But that was not what happened.

Monday morning, Carmen Rodriguez looked down from her second story window and saw Sophia, frozen with fear, standing on the sidewalk, as if completely paralyzed. She yelled down but Sophia just shook her head and turned, as if to run, trying to avoid some force that Carmen could not see or hear. Terrified, Carmen ran down the steps, and burst out the doorway, desperate to see what held the girl so spellbound.

It was only then that she saw, them, clothed in black, advancing on the fifteen-year-old, each with a gun in their hand.

She barely had time to think at all as they breezed right past her, grabbing the girl.

But in the seconds between the time she spun around and the time the very front man turned and put a bullet in her head, Carmen thought of two things.  
The first was if she could turn back time, she'd tell Andrew he was right, and how much she loved him. She'd leave New York.

The second was that Bobby would never forgive her.


	2. One Hell of a Nightmare

It was days like this that made Elliot want to hit something.

All cases were gruesome in this unit. No exceptions. Ever molestation, every rape, every murder.

But it was the child abductions that really got Elliot going. To know that some… some sick _freak_ … had, in essence, _stolen_ an innocent child…

Well. That made him angry.

He shook off the thought. Liv was talking in some distant place and he had to focus, had to get back to work. His hold on his job had become ever more precarious since Kathy and the kids left. He had to be careful now; he didn't want to be shipped off to narcotics or some other department, like they'd done with Cassidy a couple years back. This was were he belonged. He knew it, and everyone else did, too. But he had to keep proving it, year after year, or else he'd get the boot. That's the way it worked.

He turned back to Olivia, straining to hear what she was saying.

"… Said Sophia was just coming out of a cab when the guys jumped her. Old lady, Carmen Rodriguez, an upstairs neighbor, rushes down and tries to protect the girl, and they gun her down." Olivia motioned toward the body of the old woman, now covered with a sheet. " Then, while the girl's still screaming, they nab her and throw her in the back of a waiting van." She turned to face Elliot. "What do you think?"

"They had to be aiming for her. The grab was to fast, too calculated."

Olivia nodded, agreeing. Elliot was still frowning. "What, Elliot?" Olivia questioned, curious.

Elliot was looking at the scene, trying to find a clue, something, anything. He turned to Liv.

"Where was she coming from?"  
"What?"

"Where was she coming from? She was getting out of a cab, you said." Elliot explained. "So, where was the cab from?"

"Oh," Olivia nodded, understanding what he meant now. She leafed through the pages of her notebook. "Uh, let's see. Ah. JFK. She just came in off a flight from Florida."

"Florida? What was she doing here?"

"Visiting her uncle. The guy in 4B said she comes every year to visit her Uncle Bobby."

Something in Elliot's brain clicked. He jerked his head up, surveying the building. "Visiting an Uncle?"

"Yeah, she lives in Florida with her Dad and Mom… the Uncle is on the Dad's side. I don't think it's him, if that's what your thinking, Elliot. From what I've gotten he adored the kid. And he's a cop here in the city. Major Case Squad, too- big league."

Elliot just looked at her, shaking his head. It couldn't be. _It just couldn't be._ "What'd you say her name was?"

"Sophia…" Olivia frowned, trying to remember the girl's last name. She searched the pad.

"Goren." Elliot sighed, turning to Liv with a pained look on his face. "Sophia Goren."  
...

Detective Robert Goren very much wanted to kick himself right now.

He'd forgotten Sophie was coming today, and she was probably at the apartment already and he knew that Mrs. Rodriguez would help her get settled, like she always did when he forgot, but still…

He just didn't like her being alone in the city was all. It was a bad idea.

He crossed the street fast, his brain still ringing with the past night's interrogation. He was good at what he did; there was no doubt. He poked and prodded until he found a weakness and then… done. They had their confession. It worked every time.

Well, Almost every time. But he didn't like to think about that.

The light turned red and he stopped, starring across the street. Cars honked and buzzed at each other, people screamed, and there was a general air of noise that hung over the streets like pollution.  
He loved it.

The light changed and he continued on his way home, pausing briefly to check his watch. Ten to eleven. Jesus. Had he really been at the station all night? Sophia was supposed to come at eight. He was so late. Why couldn't he remember things like this? He needed a vacation, badly.

He glanced at the street sign, though he knew the winding paths of the city like the back of his hand. Only a few blocks to go. He couldn't believe it was June already.

He was a few blocks away when a couple of cop cars zoomed past.

They didn't worry him; there were sirens all over the place. Granted, there certainly seemed to be a lot of them, more than a usual amount, but what could he do about it? It was New York City.

Hmm. Johnny Three. Now He was an enigma. He'd spent the entire night interrogating the little bastard, and had gotten very little for his troubles. The punk had this air of arrogance, like he knew something Bobby didn't.

Which, you know, was unlikely. Bobby had figured him out long ago.

But still, his smile had haunted him. He'd asked if Bobby had family. Bobby said no wife, no kids. Three had grinned.

"Yeah. I know. But _Family_ doesn't mean just a wife or a kid…" he'd said, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. Bobby hated convicts with quirks. They annoyed him. "Family could be a mom, or a dad, or I don't know. Even a nephew." Three bit the end of the cigarette. "Or a niece."  
That's when Bobby started. Damnit. Sophia! He'd forgotten about her in the heat of things. He'd practically run out of the room, leaving the interrogation in the only semi-capable of Detective Eames (he'd gotten all he figured he'd be getting, any way) and left work. By then, he was already two hours late.

He checked his watch again, only a block from his apartment. At least he'd made good time this far. The sirens were getting louder, but he wasn't very worried.

He turned the corner that led to his apartment.

It was crawling with cop cars.

He stopped, surprised. Had something happened to Mrs. Rodriguez? Shit. Sophia would be terrified if it did. She loved that old woman.

He sped up. He needed to get to Sophia.

The front door of his building was ajar, the stoop and part of the sidewalk and road fenced off by tape. There was a chalk outline of a body not far from the stairs. Blood stained the pavement. Three or four bags of luggage were strewn, haphazardly, in the street.

Bobby's brain struggled to function. He couldn't see Sophia.

He took a few more steps toward the door, getting as close to the tape as possible. There was a detective he knew… what was his name? Damn. He worked on the Barron case a while ago… Stabler. Special Victims Unit.

The luggage. The chalk. The front door open. Sophia was no where to be seen.

Stabler said something to the partner standing next to him, and began to walk toward him. The look on his face…

Special Victims handled child abductions.

_Oh, Shit.  
... _

Olivia stared at the scene around her with a critical eye. This was bad. A fifteen year old girl, the niece of a good, honest detective, ripped off the street.

And they had no idea why.

No leads. No evidence. Only two witnesses, both of whom agreed that the captors were wearing ski masks that covered everything but the mouth and eyes.

She shook her head. This was very bad.

The apartment was swarming with cops. Detective Goren was sitting on the couch, his lips pressed in a thin line, his demeanor stoic. Her heart went out to him. She couldn't imagine.

She watched Elliot take a statement from him.

The phone rang.

Olivia jumped a mile and a half in the air, and everyone in the apartment froze. The tech guy, who'd rigged up the speaker in case it turned out to be a hostage situation, signaled it was okay to pick up.

Goren did. "Hello?" he answered, his voice steady.

A raspy voice replied.  
"Looking for something?" It was a cruel question. Olivia flinched. Goren said nothing.

The raspy voice on the other end laughed. "Never were a talker, were you, Bobby?" Again, no answer from the detective. "Here's the deal. I've got what you want… and I'm willing to give it back." There was a pause. "For a price."

"Name it." Goren responded. His face showed no emotion.

"Your badge. I want it publicly stripped from you. You've got seventy-two hours to get the Commissioner to do it."

The Captain signaled Goren to ask the alternative. They were recording all of this. "Or?"

"Or I kill her."

Detective Goren's stoic face slipped for a moment. "Let me talk to her." He demanded. "Let me talk to her now."

The voice laughed. There was the sound of motion, of the phone being passed, and a fleeting "Uncle Bobby!" from the other end, in a young girl's voice, and then-

And then the line went dead.

The room was silent for a moment.

"I want a trace on that phone!" Yelled Cragen, his shaky voice breaking the silence. All at once every person in the room rushed to complete the task, or went back to what they were doing before. Only Detective Goren remained unmoving, the phone still held to his ear, as if he were expecting more, as if that small "Uncle Bobby!" could never be enough.

Gently, Olivia reached forward and hung up the phone.  
...

This couldn't be real.

That's all Bobby kept thinking to himself. _This couldn't be real._

The cops swirling around him. The Captain from Special Victims saying something to him, making some empty promise. The pretty one smiling sadly at him. The call. Stabler taking a statement from him. _An alibi. _For his niece's … his Sophie's…. abduction.

_This couldn't be real._ It had to be a dream.

No.

If it wasn't real, it was one_ hell_ of a nightmare.


End file.
